


Christmas in the Cupboard

by katertotter



Category: QI RPF
Genre: M/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-12-22
Updated: 2011-12-22
Packaged: 2017-10-27 20:21:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,444
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/299682
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/katertotter/pseuds/katertotter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>David Mitchell absolutely hates Christmas parties. Will this one change his mind?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Christmas in the Cupboard

**Author's Note:**

  * For [marginaliana](https://archiveofourown.org/users/marginaliana/gifts).



> Happy Yuletide, Marginaliana! I hope you enjoy this. It was definitely a challenge for me.

Every year on the 23rd December, Stephen Fry threw a massive Christmas party. It always started out civilised enough, but by about 10:30 PM, the merriment had grown louder and louder; and by midnight, the table dancing had started. Once 1:00 AM rolled around, well, clothes had become optional, Hugh Laurie was inevitably playing the piano with a strange amount of skill given his level of total pissedness, Stephen had given up flirting with everyone and was on the piano bench slumped over Hugh, and Robert was passed out on one of the guest beds with his feet in Rob Brydon's face.

 _Bloody fucking Christmas parties_ , David Mitchell thought, shifting around a bit in the tiny space he'd managed to squish himself into on a big leather sofa. How the fuck did he even get here? He hardly liked most of the other guests, and he emphatically did not like holidays, gift giving, or pretending to care. This definitely required a small lorry load of alcohol. He tucked into a bottle in earnest. One cupboard, approximately 15 gin and tonics, and Jimmy Carr's tie in his fist later, he began to question that decision.

No, this was definitely not what he'd imagined he'd be doing this evening, but he wasn't capable of imagining much else at the moment.

~*~

About twenty minutes earlier, Jimmy had been slurring some impression of him in front of a small crowd, who had laughed rather too vigorously for his taste, at the ridiculously high-pitched rant about how hard it was to be posh and forced to hang out with people like them.

Everyone loved Jimmy. Even the people who hated him. David was pretty sure those people didn't know Jimmy all that well, and were under the misguided notion that he _was_ his stage persona: a cynical, obnoxious bastard. David knew better, though. Jimmy was almost too nice, which was pretty much the opposite of himself. He really was a bitter, angry person, and he liked it that way. He wondered how he and Jimmy got on so well. He had finally had to walk away, though, and he went up the stairs into the dark hallway where he found a cupboard door to lean against.

Almost as soon as he had relaxed, Stephen Fry burst out of what he could only assume was his bedroom, giggling like a schoolgirl and completely dishevelled, hanging onto an equally pissed Hugh Laurie who was singing a song about Fry being a National Fucking Treasure to the tune of A Few of My Favourite Things. Only Laurie could make that work, David thought. They stumbled past him smiling and practically screamed "Hullo!" He just nodded.

He looked at his watch, noting that it was only 11:30. This bullshit wouldn't be ending any time soon. Convention required that he stay until at least two o'clock, convention being Stephen himself. He sighed, and knocked back another big swallow of his gin effectively finishing it off. He was more than a bit drunk, and starting to sway from side to side. He briefly considered going back for another drink, but he wasn't too sure he'd even make it there and back, so he just put the glass on a table in the hallway, ran a hand through his hair and stuffed his hands in his pockets. He closed his eyes and willed the whole thing to be over.

Someone was running up the steps awkwardly, clearly missing a few of them along the way, and he saw Jimmy's dark hair pop around the corner. Jimmy's face was flushed from the exertion and too much champagne, and he was out of breath. He was nearly panting as he zigzagged his way over to David, standing about two centimetres from his face and sucking in all the air available in the vicinity.

"Where did you go?" Jimmy asked. Well, the words more tumbled out of his mouth. "Well, I mean, obviously you went here, but why? I didn't offend you, did I? Was jus' joking."

David stared at him for a moment, trying to focus on his face. "No. You didn't offend me. I've grown accustomed to you talking utter bollocks all the time."

"I'll have you know it was a fairly accurate representation." Jimmy leaned against the door beside David, lolling his head back against the wood. "I've done worse, you know."

"Have you? Have you really?" The world was positively swimming. David rolled himself sideways, putting one hand on either side of Jimmy against the door. Jimmy was obviously surprised by this, and looked as if he could bunch himself up into a ball. Yes, that was good. This party had room for improvement, after all. "What have you done worse, then? Nicked some crisps? Borrowed your girlfriend's knickers? Let Barrowman suck your cock? God knows there aren't many people that he wouldn't, and I've seen the way he looks at you sometimes."

Jimmy looked awfully appealing tonight, especially now that he was blushing. David liked that. Making Jimmy speechless. It rarely happened, particularly if he had been drinking. The world was his stage then.

"Ha! Jealousy? Why am I so unsurprised? But, no, not as such. Besides, he looks at everyone that way." Jimmy continued to shift around, his left leg now leaning against David's right in an apparent attempt to hold himself up. "Do you wish he looked at you that way, then? He doesn't seem to like you much."

"I think I can do nicely without Barrowman breathing down my trousers every time I see him, thank you very much."

Jimmy laughed. He really did sound like a seal. An adorable, rather pleased with himself seal. David liked to make him laugh. It was infectious. Like Herpes. Jimmy Carr the Herpes Seal. That hardly made sense, but David was pretty sure that nothing was supposed to make sense right now.

He leaned in a bit further. The blush darkened and spread across Jimmy's cheeks. "You were telling me about how naughty you were this year. I'll bet that Santa doesn't bring you anything."

"There's about as much probability of him showing up, as there is of the baby Jesus coming round for some Chocolate Hobnobs and Cheesy Wotsits," Jimmy said, practically against David's mouth.

"That naughty? Well well. I didn't know you had it in you."

Jimmy swallowed audibly. David's legs were both firmly pressed against Jimmy's now, and he could feel himself growing hard, the upper hand he had gained in the situation adding to his intoxication. For a moment, his eyes glazed over and he fixed them firmly on the door behind Jimmy's head in an attempt to clear his mind.

"What are you doing?" Jimmy asked.

"Oh. Um. I'm just trying to get into the cupboard. The door doesn't seem to swing in, though." He jiggled the handle, implying that Jimmy would need to shift over.

"What do you want in the cupboard?" Jimmy budged to the left, out of the path of the swinging door.

"I don't know. I just wonder what sort of oddities Stephen keeps in his cupboards. Probably just books, and signed photographs of Hugh, and other boring, swotty things he's pinched from the sets of various documentaries on _The History of Jugs in the 17th Century_ or whatever other insanely twattish titles they give those things."

The door opened much easier than he had anticipated. It was a rather sizeable cupboard, David noticed. You could walk fully into it without any trouble, and there were shelves lining the back and right side, while the left side housed a wing back chair of sorts, which was definitely odd. Stephen must actually sit in here, inspecting the books on platypus mating and 14th Century maces and plague doctor masks. The whole thing gave new meaning to the phrase "coming out of the cupboard". Clearly, Stephen liked to go in and out of it at will.

"Well. This is quite as I expected."

David stood back, allowing Jimmy to peer into the dark. He stepped in for a closer look, and saw that David was right. There were all sorts of weird things in there, all organised painstakingly. "Fry really is a bit insane, but that's part of what makes him so interesting, I reckon," Jimmy said.

Suddenly, the door slammed shut behind Jimmy, and he whirled around, falling directly into David, who caught him and pushed him up against the wall again. Light streamed in through the crack between the door and the frame, and, after a few moments, their vision adjusted enough to make out shapes in the dark, particularly each other.

"I say, you're having an awful time trying to stand up, David!"

David pressed against Jimmy, pushing him against the wall with the books."Am not. Be quiet."

"What? Why?" Jimmy asked, looking around with a confused expression."There's no one here."

"Mostly because I told you to."

"Oh," Jimmy said. "Why are we being quiet if there's no one here?"

David sighed. "You're not. Words continue to come out of your mouth at rather a rapid pace, actually."

Jimmy tried and failed to stifle another of those ridiculously adorable laughs. David put his hand over Jimmy's mouth, which didn't even begin to stop him, and was probably tied into all that champagne he'd poured down his throat all evening. David removed his hand and closed the distance, firmly kissing him quiet. Jimmy, most likely in shock, finally complied, making only a tiny whining sound instead.

David pulled back. He wasn't quite sure why he had done that, but he wasn't averse to doing it again. This was definitely proving to be a struggle for him to remain sane. Fucking Christmas parties. Not that this had happened to him at any other Christmas party.

"What was that?" Jimmy finally asked.

"I don't know. I just wanted you to shut up." This wasn't entirely true, and he knew it. Jimmy looked like he knew it, too. This was possibly due to the fact that his cock was proper hard by this point, and flush against Jimmy. Fuck. Shit. Shitfuck. Wait a minute. That was Jimmy's cock that his rested against, and it was definitely hard, too. He liked it, David thought. He liked being kissed. Wonder what else he would like?

"Well? Are you going to do it again or not?" Jimmy asked with a surprising amount of calm, his eyes fluttering in their struggle to remain open.

"Yes. Well. All right, then." David relaxed against Jimmy, leaning in again and pressing his mouth against Jimmy's for the second time. This should have been much weirder than it was, he thought. However, it wasn't, so he just ignored these thoughts and pushed his tongue into Jimmy's mouth, not that Jimmy offered much resistance, his own tongue meeting and curling around David's.

Hm. This was nice. Jimmy smelled like oranges and Fairy laundry soap and alcohol. One of his hands had come up and began to card through David's hair, curling around the back of his neck, presumably ensuring that he remained close. Not that he was going anywhere at this point. No, the cupboard might as well be his new flat. He didn't want to leave it any time soon, either. Stephen would just have to find another place to hide from the world. He was sure that Stephen would approve of this, as well, if he could see them now.

He brought one of his hands down from the wall beside Jimmy's head, and placed it on Jimmy's chest, the tips of his fingers over Jimmy's collarbone and barely ghosting across his neck. Jimmy's tie became bunched up in his fist somehow, and he was using it to pull him even closer, the kiss becoming increasingly urgent. Jimmy's hands had left his neck and had worked their way around his back, pressing him forward. It would have been nearly impossible for them to get closer at this point.

David, thoroughly out of breath, eventually had to pull back, resting his forehead on Jimmy's nose. For a few moments, the only sound in the cupboard was their breath colliding in the small space between them. David opened his eyes and saw that Jimmy's were already open, staring directly into his own. His pupils were entirely blown out, a tiny rim of green lining the massive black bit. He ran his tongue out over his lips, looking both confused and completely debauched, and David completely lost any pretence he had been holding on to. His grip on Jimmy's tie tightened, and he used his other hand to fumble with the button of Jimmy's trousers. Jimmy's hands travelled aimlessly across his back and through his hair, as he struggled to concentrate on getting the button and flies undone. Having accomplished this task, Jimmy's trousers fell into a puddle on the cupboard floor. His pants quickly followed.

Jimmy kissed him again, his own hands working the button of David's trousers helplessly. David's head seemed to clear itself immediately, realising just exactly what was happening. Surprisingly, it took him less than five seconds to realise that he wasn't overly concerned with it, apart from the niggling need to have it happen now, and he helped Jimmy's clumsy hands to pop open the button, drag the flies down, and lose his own trousers and pants. He backed up a few centimetres, in a half-arsed attempt to assess the situation.

Jimmy looked frantic, the expression on his face one that David had never seen before, hidden behind fluttering eyelids, his mouth slack and forming an "O". The look was nothing, though, compared to the noise that escaped Jimmy's mouth just then.

 _The noise._

For such a small noise, it held an incredible amount of _want_ in it. It propelled David into action, causing him to lunge forward. He fervently hoped that neither of them would say a single, solitary word to break the sense of urgency. No, if they talked, everything could shatter, so he gave one last searching look into Jimmy's eyes, and seeing no alarm or interest in stopping what was so obviously going to happen now, and he steadied himself with one hand on the wall behind them. Everything stilled, and Jimmy's breathing became very shallow against the stubble on David's cheek. He wrapped his right hand around his cock and brought it against Jimmy's, enclosing both in his fingers.

Jimmy appeared to stop breathing altogether at this point, and his head made a slightly worrying cracking noise as it fell back against the bookcase, but David wasn't about to ask him if he were all right. He cautiously began to slide his hand up and down their cocks, twisting a bit on the upstroke. Jimmy exhaled sharply, and David took this as a good sign. He continued to pump his hand slowly up and down, burying his head against Jimmy's neck, which was still craned backward and rolling slightly from side to side, and that tiny noise was appearing with some regularity now.

Jimmy's hips began to hitch forward, pushing his cock up into David's hand with a decided rhythm. David looked up at him, stockpiling the tiny gasps for later. Those were rather lovely. He wanted those sounds. He quicken the pace of his hand a bit, trying to get more and more of them, and Jimmy began to mumble something under his breath that sounded suspiciously like David's name. Well. That was even better, wasn't it? It certainly wasn't going to hurt his narcissism. He smirked, and Jimmy caught it.

"Shu'up," Jimmy said, with a serious look of concentration on his face.

David quirked an eyebrow, which he thought probably made the smirk even more obnoxious, but he didn't slow the pace. In fact, he moved his hand even quicker, and Jimmy went back to murmuring. The palm of his left hand curled around the edge of the bookcase shelf in a losing battle to hold their weight.

Jimmy's grip in his hair was getting tighter and tighter, completely destroying any chance of looking like this didn't happen afterwards, and David decided that he liked the idea of that. Of everyone knowing. That was definitely helping things along. He was getting closer. He could tell that Jimmy was nearly there, as well.

He broke the silence. "Come on, Jimmy. Do it now."

Jimmy complied a few moments later, the tiny noises peaking in one massive near shout, his come spilling hot and thick all over David's hand. David pulled a few more times, squeezing a bit on the last stroke, and released violently, his own come stickily mixing with Jimmy's. Jimmy kissed him hard one last time, before pulling away and sucking in large gasps of air. David's head fell to Jimmy's shoulder and remained there for two or three minutes, or possibly days.

"Well. That was unexpected," Jimmy said somewhere in the vicinity of the top of David's head.

David squeezed his eyes shut. "You could say that, yes. I suppose people are beginning to wonder if we've left. Or, well, if you've left. They're probably hoping I have."

He lifted his head, stepping back a bit, and bent down to pull his trousers up. There was a large scarf on top of some books, and he took it and cleaned himself off, before tucking his cock back into his trousers and attempting to sort the rest of his clothes. He'd have to buy Fry a new scarf, or not.

When he'd finished, he decided that it would probably be advisable to make eye contact once again, so he did. Jimmy was all dressed again, looking far more immaculate than he should have done, and was leaning against the wall, his feet crossed at the ankles, looking vaguely amused.

"Are you embarrassed, David? Don't be. I won't tell anyone."

David made a sour face, and tried to look comfortable, failing spectacularly. "I'm fine. And of course you won't tell anyone. They wouldn't believe you. Everyone knows I'm far too good for you."

There was the seal again. Loud as ever, and sounding decidedly chuffed. If seals can sound chuffed, that is. "Oh, absolutely! That was, by far, the poshest cupboard fuck I've ever had! Thank you."

"Don't mention it. It was the least I could do considering you aren't likely to get much else for Christmas with a face like a moon."

"We'd better get back down to the party before they ring 999 and report us missing," Jimmy said, popping up off the wall and reaching for the door handle.

David put his hand over the handle as well, stopping Jimmy from opening it, and looked at him for a minute. "Are we going to do this again, or was this one of those fumbling, drunken messes people are always whinging about?"

"Well. Alan Davies is having that New Year's party next week, and I'm sure if you got a start in the afternoon, there'd be enough alcohol to fuel another expedition into Alan's linen cupboard. What can I say? Anything can happen, David.'

Jimmy smiled, and turned the handle, trying to swing the door open, but hitting something on the other side that made an "oomph" sound as it hit the floor. An "ow!" followed it in the distinct voice of Hugh Laurie, followed by a groan that clearly belonged to Stephen. Jimmy and David both poked their heads around the door and saw them lying in a heap in the middle of the hallway.

"What in fuck are you doing?" David asked, trying to appear unconcerned.

"Well, lovelet. Hugh and I were just listening to every single thing you said and did in there for the past hour. And I must say, it was delightful, darling! You're welcome to use my cupboard any time you want."

David's face turned bright red, and the other three laughed. "Oh. Well. We were just-"

"Fucking, dear," Stephen said. "The word you want is fucking. And what is the Christmas season without getting your Yule Log out?"

David looked pained. "Ugh, bad euphemisms? It must be nearly 2 o'clock, then?"

Hugh scrunched his nose up and checked his watch. "1:45, actually! Good guess!"

"Guess?" David said, watching curiously as Stephen crawled into the cupboard. "It wasn't a guess. Once you bring out the nob gags, the party is over. Thanks for another year of ridiculousness, Stephen."

"You're welcome! Oh, and, David?" Stephen said from somewhere inside the cupboard. He popped back out a few seconds later holding something behind his back. "Consider the scarf a gift. Merry Christmas!"

"Marvellous."

 

~fin


End file.
